Darcy knew that Thor's younger sibling had the literal gods-given reputation of being a bit prickly from time to time. It took a special kind of attitude to try to pull off real-life world domination. And Loki had that attitude.

However, it was becoming painfully easy to forget that he was the nutjob that brought an alien army through a portal to New York. The fallen prince had been the absolute picture of courtly charm thus far on their trip. Sometimes, Darcy even managed to almost stop thinking about the fact that he could squish her like a tiny bug without much thought.

But on their excursion for their first morning in Vanaheim, Loki could only be described, in Midgardian terms, as a Grade A Asshat.

The man —or god— had woken her up before the sun was even out, which counted as both Strike One and Strike Two as far as Darcy was concerned. He had fully dressed her back in her adventuring outfit and reapplied her Black Widow glamor while she slept. She knew he could have probably accomplished this with a subtle flick of his wrist while she remained nestled in her blanket burrito. Still, it left her feeling mildly violated and more than a bit irritated. He had already returned her bag to the ship, and he didn't even let her eat breakfast before he'd pushed them out the door, which she was convinced was some sort of human rights violation.

That brought them up to the present as she shadowed his steps through the city: hungry and grouchy beyond belief. In spite of the moderately dense hustle and bustle of the city, the streets were strangely clean. Vanaheim was as picturesque a fantasy city as she had ever seen. Foliage seemed embedded into the architecture. Soft colors and open air favored heavily by the Vanir, as opposed to the loud and boisterous gold of Asgard. Somewhere inside, Darcy felt the low hum of energy buzzing in her body. As if the city could not stop from crackling with magic. Longing to spend weeks exploring every nook and cranny of the city rose up to her chest. But the immortal currently camping out in Casa de Lewis wasn't going to rebirth herself.

Whatever bits of trivia about the city Loki tried to share as they walked were greeted with a scowl from her, in spite of her immense interest. The ethereal beauty of the city had not distracted the recent college graduate from her hunger, nor her irritation. She would almost have wondered if he was trying to soothe her mood with his little anecdotes, if it hadn't been his fault in the first place. If he was that worried, he could have let her get a damn bagel or something on the way out of the door. Stupid gods. But whatever his intention, he seemed to get the hint she was not in the mood for a history lesson as he eventually abandoned his attempt to educate her. She pointedly ignored the deeply buried part of her brain that became upset at the thought of disappointing him in any way. That part was quickly drowned out by her more sensible parts that reminded her that he was the maniac that tried to take over her planet and she did not need his approval.

Frigga's presence was getting harder and harder to feel during her waking hours. Darcy noticed herself reaching for the queen in her mind as she found herself staring at a fountain with a silvery, half-worked loom in the center of it. The spray of the fountain made it appear as if the threads were slowly weaving together before falling into the clear waters below and continuing the cycle. It was hauntingly familiar, but the call for Frigga's knowledge came up empty. Darcy had not realized she had stopped to stare at the fountain until she looked up to see Loki back-tracking his steps towards her. Of course, it was Clint Barton's form he wore. She was loath to admit that the SHIELD agent's face was less intimidating than Loki's normal countenance. She had only met Barton twice. He called her 'kid' both times and patted her head once, but somehow in a way that was endearing rather than infuriating. Loki's more severe expression seemed misplaced on Barton's features as he retraced his steps to where she had paused in the street amid the busy Vanir.

"What is she telling you?" Loki asked. Darcy resented herself for preferring his real voice.

"I don't think I can hear anymore. Not when I'm awake," she said, still finding the Widow's voice odd coming from her own mouth.

"You still see her at night?"

"When I dream, I guess. She talks to me. It almost feels like stopping by for tea or something in my own head. No matter what we talk about though… she's always weaving." Darcy would have probably been even more tired on account of Loki's rude awakening if her sleep had not been the most restful she could ever remember having. She wondered if it was some kind of mojo Frigga was working, either purposefully or not. Hopefully it was the safe kind of mojo that wouldn't result in her ending up as Frigga wearing a Darcy suit. It felt as if she had passed the entire night resting on one of the couches in Frigga's mind palace, chatting quietly with the queen in between naps. Frigga's soft voice and easy demeanor coated Darcy's frayed nerves like warm honey.

"My mother often occupied herself with weaving when she was plotting something. Which is to say, she is a master at the craft. Even Odin knew to be wary when she was at her loom." Darcy noticed a strange, wistful smile on Clint Barton's features, and found herself trying to picture how it would look on Loki's true face. "What do you talk about, if you don't mind my asking?"

Darcy bit her lip, their recent conversation coming back to her mind from the previous night. Loki will not harm you, Frigga had seemed so insistent on repeating. I will not makes excuses for what he has done, nor for what has been done to him. But whatever madness has gripped him these past years seems to be losing its hold. When he speaks with you, I see the man he once was, and perhaps a bit of the man he will become. I thank you for the gift of seeing my son again. Darcy couldn't really account for Loki being different since they had met, considering she had no idea what we was like before then. Even though Frigga and Thor had both painted her a picture of someone very different from the would-be tyrant on top of Stark Tower, she had assumed Loki's polite chivalry and indulgence in her wishes for a proper adventure had been an act to gain her compliance. And Darcy had never turned her nose up at a fiction that made life's nastier moments more palatable.

"Everything and nothing, honestly," Darcy finally said. "I think she avoids talking about the whole impending potential death thing. She talks about you a lot. She's told me stories about when she was younger. And the few times she's been on Earth. But mostly about you."

"I suppose you would be hard pressed to find a more interesting subject."

Darcy pressed her lips together tightly, failing to hide smile threatening to break at the smarmy grin Loki gave her.

"You are unbelievable," she said, desperately clinging to her irritation.

"I never claimed to be anything else, darling," he said, holding out his elbow. Darcy rolled her eyes, but took his arm just the same.

"I'm still mad at you," she insisted. "If I faint from hunger and ruin the mission, it's all your fault."

"Forgive me. I forgot how frail you mortals are. Let us finish our task at hand, and then lunch is on me."

For some reason, Darcy's bullshit detector was ringing off the hook.

Loki had dropped her off in a real life wizard's tower. An actual wizard's tower on the outer skirts of the really nice part of town. Long stone corridors, stacks of books, giant fireplaces. Everything. He had given her instructions on where this old enemy of his probably kept this necklace, told her to go get it while he kept the dude busy in town.

He hesitated when Darcy asked what his name was. But he did give a name that Darcy had already forgotten. She was less interested in his actual name than if Loki could actually give her one.

The place was dirty. Not cluttered and gross, but old and seemingly unoccupied. It was cold, quiet, and dusty. Sheets covered a lot of the furniture. No guards or housekeeper. Nothing. No way had anyone been there in a while, let alone still living there. Still, she followed his suspiciously correct directions, though he had feigned difficulty remembering, to the top library where the desk he described sure enough was.

The intern made no assumption that she knew her guide very well. But the room absolutely screamed Loki. Rich green hues accented the furniture, thought it favored the Vanir style of subtle elegance rather than the distinctly Asgardian feel of his space ship set up. There was a small unlocked chest on the desk just like he said there "might" be. If this was his damn study, why pretend it wasn't?

Darcy huffed as she too easily found the necklace he described. It was very pretty. Simple but exquisitely made, and pleasantly warm to the touch. A golden snake wrapped around a long green jewel. She wrapped it in the cloth he had given her, tucking it in her pocket, before making her way out the back. The door emptied out into a small courtyard with high walls. The fountain pools that seemed popular in Vanaheim were still but not stagnant. The flowering bushes were beautiful but overgrown and unkempt. She rolled her eyes as she plopped down on a stone bench, stomach still growling.

Normally, she'd be all about exploring the heck out of an abandoned wizard's tower, but a sinking feeling was keeping her from enjoying it. Was it her, or was it Frigga that felt uneasy? There very distinct feeling that Loki was absolutely lying to her about something was setting in her lower gut like a bad biscuit. But considering she was stranded on a strange planet and knew exactly no one, she didn't really have a choice but to do what he said and wait for him to come find her.

With no smartphone to distract her and only her hunger pangs to keep her company, Darcy was just about ready to start regretting throwing in her lot with the God if Mischief before she finally heard boots scraping down the bath behind her. She turned and stood to see him approaching, still in Barton's form.

"Did you find it?"

Darcy nodded, looking down at his boots and taking notice of his hurried pace.

"You knew exactly where it was, so it didn't take long," she said dryly. If he noticed her tone, he made no mention of it.

"Good, we must depart for the ship. Our presence here will not remain secret for long."

Darcy scowled crossing her arms. "What did you do?" Her frown deepened. "What about lunch?"

It was Loki's turn to roll his eyes before reaching into his pocket, pulling out a bright yellow apple. "Here. Will this tide you until we get to the ship? You have rations in your pack, do you not?"

She grumbled again, snatching the apple from his hand. "This was the best you could do?" she said, not pausing before taking a bite. "Couldn't you have sprung for a sandwich or something."

"They had them in the tavern where Gerundr was dining." Gerundr! That was it. "Never say I don't do you any favors. Now, if you don't wish to be arrested as soon as we are discovered stealing private property, I suggest we depart with all due haste."

Darcy shrugged, taking another bite of apple. "Whatever. Lead the way, your highness," she said, chunk of apple tucked in her cheek, in a way that was only partially mocking.

Loki extended his hand in the direction he came from.

"How pleasant to hear one's proper title appropriately addressed."

"I've got a better one for you."

It took about an hour to reach the ship hidden in the woods. With of a wave of his hand, Loki made it appear again as reality shimmered, revealing the hidden vessel. She looked at Loki — his true face revealed to her own— smirking at his unnecessary flourish before she felt the world fall out from under her. It was as if the ground suddenly turned into clouds, and she felt headed backwards.

The hard impact of the ground never came. She blinked and suddenly they were directly in front of the ship as the door opened, climb into the small entrance. She wasn't standing. She wasn't on the ground. Only when looking up could she see that Loki was carrying her. Her body felt heavy as lead. Words failed to form on her lips as her eyes closed again.

When she opened them again briefly, she realized she was lying down somewhere. Somehow she had a sense that hours has passed, but it could have just as easily been minutes or days. A soft cocoon of comfortable blankets surrounded her, but the inside of her body was on fire. Her limbs were so heavy she couldn't move. She was so tired she could barely hold her eyes open. Something cool and pleasant brushed against her cheek and forehead. She opened her eyes to see Loki slightly looking over her. The gentle coolness was his hand.

"W-what happened?" she whispered. She felt him slide a hand behind her neck, the unnatural cold of his hand relieving the heat swelling inside of her. "Did he find us?"

"You're recovering. We are on our way to Alfheim: the last stop in our journey."

Darcy fought with ever cell in her eyelids to open up. Her tongue felt like cement. "Recovering from what?" She could vaguely tell from only seeing him from the chest up that she was in his loft bed on the ship. He had a strange look on his face, though she was struggling to understand what was strange about it. The attempt to sit up ended abruptly when she realized she could barely even turn.

"Rest," Loki said, moving his hand back to her forehead as the comforting cool spread over her skin. She sighed in relief. "I can make you as comfortable as possible. The next several hours will be challenging, but soon you will feel better than you ever have." Darcy drew her brows together as her breath quickened before she forced herself to slow it. He at least had the decency to appear uncomfortable, looking around the cabin as if he could find something to calm her down.

"I know I probably don't want to know the answer this, but what the hell did you do, Loki?" He pulled a blanket up over her. For some reason, it didn't make her feel even hotter. Just safer. At peace… In spite of her mind fighting to panic at whatever was going on. She grabbed his wrist, and he paused his movement. "Stop messing with my head," she hissed through her teeth. Loki fairly resembled the proverbial deer in the proverbial headlights. But the panic suddenly gripped her again. But it felt natural, and she preferred it.

"I promised that I would do all that I could to keep you safe, and see to it that you would survive what is to come. I am keeping that promise."

Darcy still fought to open her eyes, struggling against both panic and an exhaustion like she had never felt. "For all this talk about promise-keeping, it sure feels like you've done something bad." His face was soft and open again. That was what was different about him.

"I've done many bad things in my life. This is low on that list."

"Why is that absolutely not comforting at all?"

"Because you are a very clever young woman."

"And why does it feel I'm dying right now?"

"You have been dying since the day you were born, as a Midgardian. Quite rapidly. But no longer. Every cell of your body is replacing itself with far more resilient counterparts that will last far longer than their predecessors planned. The magic of Idunn shall strengthen you so that you can survive the magic of the Ljósálfar. The process is exhausting, from what I've heard. But short-lived."

Darcy stared at him for a sixty silent seconds.

"The apple," she said.

"Yes."

It felt like another sixty seconds passed, but Darcy wondered if she had dozed off for longer.

"You're making me an Asgardian?"

"Asgardian connotes citizenship, which you are not a resident of the Realm Eternal. But your biology will resemble that of an Aesir, yes."

"Do me a favor."

"Anything."

"Pick my hand up and hit yourself in the face with it." Surprisingly enough, he complied, but not nearly as hard as she would have liked. "I don't even have the energy to be mad at you. And I don't know enough cuss words."

"I'm sure, in time, we will be able to enrich your vocabulary enough."

"Why the f-" She breathed heavily. "Why wouldn't you just tell me what you were doing? Why were you so weird today?"

Loki breathed heavily. "Most people are more malleable when they are hungry, tired, and confused."

Darcy grit her teeth. "And you made sure I was all three." She managed to jerk her hand away from his when she realized he still gently held her wrist. "So I wouldn't say 'no' to your stupid apple."

"I apologize for my deception. Truly, I do. I thought only of your protection. Stealing an Apple of Idunn and consuming without the blessing of the All-father holds a grave penalty."

"What?" Her voice was louder than it had since she had woken. He lifted his hands defensively before slowly lowering them to the rail of the loft bed.

"You consumed it ignorantly, and were ignorant of my intentions and whereabouts on Vanaheim. The crime is mine, not yours. You will not be held accountable."

"Until your stupid dad smites me into little tiny pieces to get his apple back."

"That's…. That's not how any of that works."

"Well then why don't you tell me how it works, Loki," she would have yelled, if she could have managed it. From what she could tell, she sounded only mildly irritated. Once again she failed to even rotate.

"Here is how it will work. We will arrive in Alfheim. You will be separated from Frigga's spirit, and it will go much more smoothly with the power of Asgard in your veins. Everything else can wait until after you and the queen are safely separated. There is nothing that has been done that cannot be undone. The All-Father will know the blame is mine in this, and will be more that happy to lay it on my feet. But I believe he will be more agreeable with his queen returned to him."

"You're so—" Darcy glared at the God of Mischief, but whatever insult she had prepared died on her lips. She settled for a grumble instead. "You're a little too comfortable taking away my choice of what happens to me because you decide it is best."

"They do not call me the God of Fairness, Darcy."

"Yeah, no shit."

"You knew whom your were dealing with when you left Asgard at my side. I have always reached my ends with the best means at my disposal."

"Or someone else's disposal," Darcy muttered.

"I was not about to leave anything to chance with our one opportunity to do this safely that I could see. Nor did I want to leave you with the consequences of you deciding yes or no. For neither would have done you any good."

Darcy sight heavily again, a new wave of exhaustion washing over her. "Even if this works, what am I supposed to do? Just go be Aesir back on Earth? Fury's going to chop me up into little pieces and put me under a microscope."

"You will find your skin far more difficult to penetrate."

"Hit yourself with my hand again."